


Skylights

by sadsparties



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo, Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadsparties/pseuds/sadsparties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colonel Georges Pontmercy, captain of Lucinde, takes a time off from courier duty to visit his son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skylights

**Author's Note:**

> It has always been said that any story can be much improved by affectionate dragons. Les Mis, being what it is, has much need of it.

Georges Pontmercy woke with a start, if a start could at all be possible while riding dragon-back. Lucinde’s wing beats caused his harness to pull in fits and jerks, and Georges was surprised that he could manage to doze off in the bumpy ride.

“All is well, Georges?” Lucinde asked as she inclined her neck towards him. The Pascal’s Blue had been flying for five hours straight, tireless in her course through the air currents. The same could not be said of her rider.

“Very well, my dear.” Georges placed a firm hand against the base of her neck, more to reassure himself than his companion. “How long to Paris now?”

“Another hour or so if I stay in this height.” The colonel nodded.

Georges Pontmercy strained to keep his attention to their course. They were on their way to Paris with post from Rouen, having landed at Vernon mid-way so that Georges could make himself presentable. The capital was where their duty took them, but the primary reason for their journey was much more important.

They were to visit family.

“How much has he grown, do you think?” Lucinde asked as she swerved to catch an air current. “He must be what now? Five?”

“Six, my dear.”

“Six years old! That’s two thousand, one hundred and ninety days. Why, when I was six, I was going around with you from Vernon all the way to Marseilles. Do you think your Marius is out and about now? Or would he still be in his cradle?” This prompted a light chuckle from Georges. “Of course he would be running about!” he said. “I suspect he would be doing so in the garden.”

“It is a good thing then that that blockhead did not try and take him again. I have a feeling that he would not let Marius run about, and running about is good for the limbs.”

Georges ran a hand along the base of Lucinde’s neck. The dragon had been unspeakably offended when his father-in-law attempted to separate him from his son, she herself almost reacquired by the Government at the Emperor’s fall. Government was to learn that a dragon functioned differently from a war medal, and could not be so easily revoked.

“I only hope that he hasn’t bothered the Pere very much.”

The pere in question was waiting for them on the bare patch beside his home. They landed in the middle of the Rue de Mezieres, Lucinde comfortably fitting in the streets that had been widened long ago. The churchwarden looked up from his nursery, a fresh sprout of a future mirabelle in the very centre of his plot. Georges released his carabiners and slid down his dragon’s side. Finding his footing, he turned to greet the old man.

“A pleasant day to you as well, monsieur.” Pere Mabeuf replied, but before he could finish this expression, a blonde hellion of a boy came dashing through the garden, narrowly missing his precious mirabelle, and threw himself to the waiting arms of the colonel.

“Papa!” Marius Pontmercy let out squeals of delight as his father lifted him in the air and settled him on his shoulders. Marius wrapped his stubby arms around his father’s forehead, and Georges could only laugh heartily as he attempted to pry them off his face. “For goodness sake, do not blind him like that or you shall fall!” Lucinde huffed to the both of them.

Little Marius turned his head to the dragon and produced a bright smile. “Hullo, Lucie.”

“It is Lucinde.” she replied. “Do call me properly or I shall be cross.” Lucinde nudged her muzzle against Marius’s cheek. This evoked fresh squeals of laughter.

“I hope he has not been too much trouble, Pere.”

“Not at all,” Pere Mabeuf said. “In truth, he has been helping me with the plots. I cannot bend as much as I could, and his hands are just right the right size for the shovels.” The old man looked at him with a hint of paternal concern. They shared a silent smile.

“Will you stay long this time, Papa?” Marius asked from atop Lucinde’s back. He had somehow grabbed a bit of the harness belts and lifted himself to the captain’s seat. “We will stay as long as we can, if you are a good hatchling,” Lucinde said. She twisted her head and cast a long, window-sized eye to the boy. “ _Have_ you been a good hatchling?”

Amidst Marius’s riotous affirmations that he had indeed been good, Georges delved into the bundle inside the belly netting and lifted out a thin, square package wrapped in oil cloth. “It is not much,” he presented it to Pere Mabeuf, “but the covert commander assured me that it is the oldest copy they had. I hope it is to your satisfaction.”

Pere Mabeuf took the package reverently and carefully unwrapped the oil cloth. A fading copy of  _Instructions on the Handling of Dragons_  lay before him. Unconsciously, his fingers stroked the cover as a man would caress his lover’s hair.

“Thank you, Colonel,” he managed to say, and to that, Georges gave a wordless nod.

“Shall we walk to the Jardin now, Papa? It is very near, and the trees are very nice. We can lie on the benches and look up at them. They look very odd that way.”

“You lie on the benches?” Lucinde asked. “Why, what if a nice, young lady wanted to sit as well! She would have nowhere to sit as you would be occupying the whole of the bench, and stand all the while as you look up at the trees, for a proper lady wouldn’t have to request for a seat, and she, being a proper lady, would not ask it of you and would only wait for you to make way for her.”

Marius’s face was twisted in annoyance, not having comprehended the entirety of what Lucinde said. “I won’t ever sit with a girl. She can find her own bench!”

“Now, now,” Georges turned to them as he finished his business with Pere Mabeuf. “There are plenty of benches in the Luxembourg, and I am sure there will be enough for all of us.” Us, meaning him and Marius, as Lucinde would have to lie on the grounds.

Georges climbed atop the dragon’s back and secured both himself and Marius to the harness. “All is well?” Lucinde called to the both of them. “All is well,” he said, and together they took to the skies.


End file.
